𝑨𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

Accept the crucifixes, knowing it’s the divine orotund, protecting again;

Far off, where the worldly woes never seem to be so ruthlessly ordained,

Where name nor game nor flame nor blame, and of words—accordingly, which never pretentiously proclaim;

The least wisp to capture that fetid fame!

O pain, superbly rising;

that lil’ charity like an ineffable lame!

Yeah—For that, as much as bad ordure, scoffed and dispelled, over and again,

I ask you to descend and go down the wends, tending to’ putrid feeds —liable-ly for the banal to claim

And then, ever not dare to blow intransigent sentiment, looking out for the fettered, the vulnerable and like the same —or whosoever slues to be flushed out as the same!

O fathomless loft brain,

Believing I might be here or yet there, time and again,

With latencies debouching all afloat over them

The seen and the unseen belonging with me the same

Lo! Behold! No need to explain

Even if the unknown strips that—“timed reality,” for that measured gain

I shall no more wait until that “perfectly,” comes to be as simply ordained …

For , to see the “ever-more-real,” which far opens—and does exist in the limitless is more alluring than these earthly plains

Ah, for those hallmarks reigning, claiming spectacular in their own courses game,

Escape name…

Here and now, done and fully dusted, these are ‘thoughts gathering their own naming flame!

Enough, the rondure earth 🌍 holding belongings with tacit refrain

And for all the disdain befitting (some) as if it were to be fully and freely gained

Beware —cultish-regimes, scaffolding factions and bringing armies to reconnaissance again,

What of that you must perpetually claim?!

Is it an obedient army, marching thro’ to salute thy 🫡 majestic name

Or, is it a treachery casted to rise above many vains

Of such and the same, clearly eluding as something strange,

Provoking nothing but chaos, affixing —adrift— off of and thro’ their names

Call it death running up to chase humaneness down those infernal lanes!

Halt ! Behold!

Before resuming your first intents worthy of those chains

Still better…

Perhaps, remember as a consequent to such hasty strains —What might ultimately remain …

A phantom effusing in the

abysmic storms —all beset in such a senseless game

Off with it !

Tat Tvam ASI!

Upon brisk wake of a spring…

Musings by © ✍️ Madhu Goteti May 7th, 2026 🦋 🦋 🦋